by Joy Ellis
THE GUILTY ONES
A gripping crime thriller filled with stunning twists
(DI Jackman & DS Evans Book 4)
JOY ELLIS
First published 2018
Joffe Books, London
www.joffebooks.com
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organisations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental. The spelling used is British English except where fidelity to the author’s rendering of accent or dialect supersedes this.
We hate typos too but sometimes they slip through. Please send any errors you find to [email protected]
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©Joy Ellis
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THERE IS A GLOSSARY OF ENGLISH SLANG IN THE BACK OF THIS BOOK FOR US READERS.
In the UK the Samaritans can be contacted on 116 123. In the US, the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline is 1-800-273-8255. In Australia, the crisis support service Lifeline is 13 11 14. Other international suicide helplines can be found at www.befrienders.org
JACKMAN & EVANS BOOK 1
THE MURDERER’S SON
https://www.amazon.co.uk/MURDERERS-gripping-crime-thriller-twists-ebook/dp/B01LWY0PUJ/
https://www.amazon.com/MURDERERS-gripping-crime-thriller-twists-ebook/dp/B01LWY0PUJ/
"What if your mother was a serial killer?"
A BLOODY KILLER SEEMS TO HAVE RETURNED TO THE LINCOLNSHIRE FENS
Twenty years ago: a farmer and his wife are cut to pieces by a ruthless serial killer.
Now: a woman is viciously stabbed to death in the upmarket kitchen of her beautiful house on the edge of the marshes.
Then a man called Daniel Kinder walks into Saltern police station and confesses to the murder.
CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
EPILOGUE
OTHER BOOKS BY JOY ELLIS
The DI Nikki Galena books
Glossary of English Slang for US readers
Character List
FREE KINDLE BOOKS AND OFFERS
PROLOGUE
The boy sat on his sister’s bed. He gazed at her reflection.
‘Dad will kill you if you go out after dark.’ He wasn’t being angry or reproving, he was simply full of concern.
‘He won’t know, will he?’ In the mirror, his sister’s eyes narrowed and her accusatory stare seemed to penetrate his very being.
His eyes were wide. ‘I won’t tell him, honest.’
‘I don’t trust you. You’ve snitched on me before.’ She twisted her long blonde hair into a complicated plait and pinned it up. It made her look much older than she really was.
‘I only told because he hit me. He hurt me, you know.’ He felt tears well up at the memory and tried to blink them away. ‘He really did.’
‘You need to toughen up, little brother. You’re a wimp. You’d do well to remember that I’m all you have. Father doesn’t give a damn about either of us.’
It was true, and even if his sister was hateful to him, it was only with words. She never touched him, unlike his father. By now he was used to her sudden mood swings, though he didn’t understand how she could go from caring to mean in a nanosecond. It was just how she was, he supposed.
‘Where are you going?’
‘That’s my business, so keep your nose out of it.’ She tapped the end of her nose. ‘It’s that boy again, isn’t it?’ She’d never mentioned his name, but he knew exactly who she was seeing. He’d followed her several times and once he’d seen her kiss him. Anyway, he knew by her behaviour that something was going on — sometimes she was almost nice to him. Lately, he’d been seeing another side to her, a much softer one.
‘You’re wasting your breath, little brother, and don’t go prying because I’m not telling you anything.’ She picked up her schoolbag, took out some books and pens and then produced a small pouch. Her makeup.
The boy leaned forward. He loved this bit. A few brightly coloured sticks and powders would soon turn this ordinary girl, the one that prepared his packed lunch every day, into an exotic stranger. It seemed like magic. Sometimes, when she was out, he would sneak the pouch from her bag, twist the lipstick open, and stare at it. Maybe it was because she kept it hidden — their dad had forbidden her to wear makeup. It made it seem extra-secretive, like the cloak-and-dagger stuff in the comics he read.
‘Go back to your room. If he checks on you, pretend to be asleep, okay? I’ll see you in the morning.’
She leaned towards him, and for one impossible moment he thought she was going to kiss him. Instead, she drew him close and said, ‘You have to be brave. Just hold on a little longer. We are going to get you away from here.’
He went to speak, but the expression on her face had suddenly altered. She seemed to believe that he could only really understand something if it was couched in violent threats.
She gripped his shoulder hard and whispered in his ear, ‘What is going to happen tonight is very important to me, little brother. I want it more than anything else in the whole world. One word to Father, just one word, in fact, if you ever tell anyone — this is what will happen . . .’
She dropped her voice to a murmur, but her message was crystal clear. She said, ‘Swear! Swear you’ll never tell.’
He swallowed hard, swore, and ran from the room, this time allowing the tears to cascade down his cheeks.
Huddled in his bed, he wondered why she was so horrible to him. She didn’t have to threaten him. If only she could see! He understood love just as much as anyone else.
* * *
He couldn’t sleep. Her words haunted him. She would do what she said, he had no doubt of that. And what did she mean by “we” will get you away from here? He curled up under the covers and shivered with fear at what she had threatened. He heard a click — the window closing. He slipped out of his bed and without turning on the light, tiptoed to where the curtains were slightly parted.
He peered through the gap. His sister, carrying a pair of high heels and a sparkly handbag, crept silently across the flat roof of the garden room and out of sight.
He stood motionless, still considering her terrible threats. Then the urge to know became too much for him. He grabbed his jeans and a zip-up top and pulled them on ov
er his pyjamas. He slipped his feet into his trainers, took a deep breath and followed her out.
CHAPTER ONE
DS Marie Evans dismounted from her gleaming new Suzuki Hayabusa. DI Rowan Jackman’s parking space was empty. She thought for a moment, but couldn’t recall him saying he would be away from work today.
Hoping that he wasn’t unwell, she pulled off her helmet and marched up to the entrance of Saltern-le-Fen police station.
The desk sergeant was shuffling papers.
‘Morning, Sarge,’ she called out to him. ‘No DI Jackman this morning?’
‘Haven’t seen him, but the super was around earlier, and she looked pretty bothered about something.’
Marie began to worry. Superintendent Ruth Crooke was rarely seen on the shop floor at this early hour. Sensing that something serious had happened, Marie hurried up to the CID room.
She was the first one in, so there was no one to ask. But moments after she got to her desk, she saw the superintendent’s stick-thin frame approaching her, tight-lipped and frowning.
‘Ma’am? Is something wrong?’ Marie asked.
Ruth Crooke nodded and beckoned for Marie to follow her.
Inside her office, with the door firmly closed, Ruth gestured to a chair and Marie sat down, wondering what on earth was going on.
‘I heard from Rowan very early this morning. He has a family emergency to attend to. Would you be able to cover the cases he was dealing with for a while?’
Marie thought Ruth looked more than mildly concerned about this “family emergency.”
Desperate to know what had happened, she said, ‘Of course, ma’am.’
‘He said that he would contact you himself later today.’
‘Do you know what’s happened?’ Marie knew that Jackman’s mother was only in her early sixties and as far as she knew, was a fit, healthy woman who rode several times a day and had her own stables. A riding accident, maybe? She also knew that Jackman had one married brother with two young sons, and hoped that the children were not involved in whatever was keeping Jackman away.
There was a moment of silence, then Ruth leaned forward and whispered, ‘Rowan’s sister-in-law has disappeared. She left for work yesterday morning and hasn’t been seen since.’
Marie gasped. ‘Oh Lord!’
‘She didn’t come home last night, and her business said that she hadn’t shown up for work. Rowan’s brother is understandably distraught, so Rowan is doing what he can to help.’
‘And the children?’
‘He says that his mother has them at the moment. They are not aware of the problem. They just think they are being allowed a couple of days’ fun at Granny’s. It’s a beautiful house with a livery stable attached, and understandably the boys love it.’ Ruth gave a little shrug. ‘And that is all I know, I’m afraid.’
Marie’s brain went into overdrive trying to recall everything she knew about Jackman’s family. She realised that she knew precious little. Jackman was a very private man, and although she counted him as a dear friend, as well as her boss, he rarely discussed his personal life. ‘I’ll take care of the workload here, ma’am. We’re pretty well up to date with the drugs case, and I’m au fait with the fraud job that we are working on with DI Pete Lawrence, so no problems there.’
‘Good, just keep the ship on a steady course, and let’s pray that there is some kind of domestic situation that the sister-in-law couldn’t deal with, and she’s taken off for a few days to sort herself out.’
‘Leaving her kids?’
Ruth pulled a face. ‘We’ve seen worse when women feel like they can’t cope anymore.’
Marie nodded. That was true, but she didn’t believe it was the case this time. One thing she did remember Jackman saying was that he sometimes envied his brother’s wonderful family life with his loving wife and two beautiful sons. Jackman’s mother was always trying to marry him off. She kept saying that he should be more like his brother — settle down and enjoy a family of his own.
Ruth looked at a towering pile of paperwork on her desk. ‘I’d better get on. But let me know if you need any assistance with your cases, and also if you hear from Rowan.’ She paused and drew in a long breath. ‘He sounded wrung out, Marie. I got the feeling that his brother is practically out of it, and no good to man nor beast. Rowan seems to be trying to hold everything together.’
‘I’ll do anything I can to help.’ Marie meant it. And right now, she just wanted to talk to him.
* * *
With all the additional work, the day had flown by. Marie had decided not to give the rest of the team any details until after she had spoken to Jackman. For now they just knew it was a family matter, and had all pitched in to keep on top of the workload. Only PC Gary Pritchard seemed to realise that it was something rather more serious. As the day drew to a close, he took Marie aside and asked if there was anything he could help with. Before she could answer, her phone rang.
‘Jackman?’ She gestured to Gary to sit and wait, and listened intently to what her boss was saying.
He asked if she could possibly drive over and meet him at his brother’s house when she finished work. His tone was stilted. ‘Things are pretty bad here, Marie.’
‘No word of her?’
There was a telling silence. Then finally he said, ‘I can’t explain on the phone. Please come. It’s Rainham Lodge, Water Lane, Amberly Fen. It’s about a mile and a half down the long lane, over a narrow bridge on the left-hand side.’
‘I’ll be there within the hour.’
‘Thank you, Marie.’ The line went dead.
Gary was staring at her. ‘It sounds bad.’
‘It is. And I suspect it’s even worse than I feared. I didn’t like Jackman’s tone one bit.’
‘Can you tell me anything? You know that it will go no further.’
Marie nodded. ‘Let’s use his office and I’ll fill you in, although I imagine I’ll be able to explain better after I’ve spoken to him.’
She told Gary what she knew.
He shook his head. ‘He’s a dark horse, our DI. He hardly ever speaks about his family, does he? Are both parents still alive?’
‘Yes. I get the impression his father is wrapped up in business from morning till night, and Jackman’s closer to his mother. And, of course, he shares her love of horses.’
‘Now horses are something he does talk about. He told me they’re his first priority when he’s finished with the force.’ Gary smiled.
‘He’s got the outdoor space at the mill where he lives, so I’m sure they will be.’ Marie sighed. ‘I don’t like to hear him so anxious. It’s just not Jackman.’
‘Ring me tonight, when you get home. Doesn’t matter what time. Just keep me updated, and if you need a hand with anything at all, just ask. I like the DI very much, he’s been good to me, and I’d like to help if I can.’
Marie smiled at Gary. ‘I will, I promise. Now I really need to go.’
Fifteen minutes later, Marie was driving past the long flat stretches of fen farmland, wondering what she was going to find at Rainham Lodge.
CHAPTER TWO
Marie rode across the bridge over a deep, reed-lined watercourse and into a wide parking area. Alongside Jackman’s Land Rover were three other vehicles. Two were marked police cars, the other a BMW.
The house stood on its own, the nearest neighbour was about a quarter of a mile down the lane. Rainham Lodge was a solid looking, three-storey Georgian former farmhouse, and it reminded Marie of how different her background was to Jackman’s. The Jackman family came from money, and clearly the eldest son was pretty well-heeled.
She looked around. Although it was an expensive residence, it also looked welcoming. Autumn was almost upon them, yet bright flowers still cascaded out of hanging baskets and troughs, and children’s bikes leaned haphazardly against a wall. It looked lived in, and well loved.
‘This is no domestic,’ she whispered to herself. And if it wasn’t, that left some very da
rk options.
Jackman appeared in the open doorway. ‘Marie! Thank you so much for coming.’
She hurried over to him and grasped his arm. ‘Are you alright?’
For a moment, she thought he was going to cry. Then he leaned forward and gave her a quick hug. ‘I’m not sure, Marie. Frankly, I don’t think I am. This is just horrible.’ He looked back over his shoulder. ‘James is with a family liaison officer at the moment, and there are several other people with them. Let’s go around to the garden, so I can tell you what’s happened in private.’
At the back of the property was a wide expanse of lawn, and at the bottom, a summerhouse.
Jackman held open the door and they went inside.
Inside, more evidence of a happy family life. A well-used croquet set, cricket stumps and bats, old-fashioned deckchairs with names printed on the backs, piles of board games and in one corner, an artist’s easel with wooden boxes beside it that probably contained paints and brushes.
The place smelled of wood, and made Marie feel quite nostalgic. Her parents didn’t have the money that Jackman’s did. They were divorced, but that meant she’d had two homes, one in Wales with her mother, and one here in Lincolnshire with Dad, and both were filled with love.
Jackman sank into one of the larger deckchairs and Marie followed suit. For a while they just sat in silence. Jackman was clearly unsure how or where to begin.
‘Sarah is dead,’ he said.
The words hung in the air.
‘Dead?’
Jackman let out a painful sigh. ‘She drowned herself.’
‘What?’
‘I know.’ He lifted his hands, palms up. ‘I said it was horrible, didn’t I?’
‘But I thought they were so happy.’
‘They were so happy. She loved James and she adored the boys.’ He swallowed. ‘It doesn’t make sense. She wouldn’t leave them.’
Marie frowned. ‘They are sure it was suicide? Not an accident or even foul play?’